


and i've been so lost without you (are you lost without me, too?)

by TheFledglingDM



Series: and i follow just to find you [2]
Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: 5+1 Things, Angst and Feels, Bittersweet, Bittersweet Ending, Dark Continent Arc, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Missing Scene, Mutual Pining, POV Multiple, Pre-Dark Continent Arc, kurapika gets a hug but does he get therapy (no)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2020-08-04
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:28:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25701346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheFledglingDM/pseuds/TheFledglingDM
Summary: “Will he be on the Black Whale, as well?” Melody asked. “He was an excellent caregiver when Gon was in the hospital, I recall.”Kurapika nodded. His heart’s song slipped down a few octaves. “Yes. He will be Dr. Cheadle’s direct assistant.”“An excellent opportunity,” Melody said, her cheer evident. “He deserves such an honor.”And there,there- a ghost of a smile, there and gone again like an apparition. It was small, unsteady, unpracticed, like the muscles were dancing in a step half-forgotten. It flickered like a candle’s flame trembling against a gust of wind. But it was there.___or: 5 times kurapika smiled on the black whale + 1 time leorio didor:there is something between kurapika and leorio. too bad they’re the last to know.
Relationships: Kurapika/Leorio Paladiknight
Series: and i follow just to find you [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2014648
Comments: 57
Kudos: 269





	and i've been so lost without you (are you lost without me, too?)

**Author's Note:**

> HI ME AGAIN. i have other wips going but leopika won't let me rest.
> 
> title taken from "while we're young" by marianas trench. for those not asking, they are my favorite band in the whole entire world. link is here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tCcZJ7-5n5Y

**1\. Melody**

Melody noticed it first.

Of course she would. She listened to the music of Kurapika’s heart with an anxious ear whenever she could. And she did not like what she heard: a song that had once ached with heartbreak and loneliness had turned to a low, haunting dirge, discordant with rage and misery. Kurapika’s heartbeat shuddered against the chains squeezing around the tender muscle. His pulse echoed like the gravedigger’s metronome, a slow and steady shovel digging down and down and down.

So when Melody noticed the change, she was hard-put not to weep in the middle of her meeting. Basho might have understood in his kind, bemused way, but she did not want to reveal too much of her power or herself to these new faces: Biksy, whose old soul hummed to a sage tune incongruous with her youthful appearance; Hanzo, whose screeching refrain completely obliterated any visage Melody had of him as a _ninja;_ or Izunavi, whose heart harmonized notes of with something like pride and something like guilt at the sight of an immensely powerful, terribly alone Kurapika.

Because when Kurapika walked into the room, she heard something she had not in nearly a year: something lighter, almost airy. An aria that resonated in a soft, warm glow, like a lone candle attempting to illuminate a massive opera hall.

In many ways, it was lonelier than before. That little light was a reminder of the expanse of darkness that surrounded interminably on all sides. But it was there. It was _back._

And it was _familiar._ She heard that lovely theme in Yorknew, in the Hunter’s Association Hall, in a hospital on the wrong side of the viewing glass. Its owner had slept there some nights, too-tall body curled up on a cold metal bench. When the doctors tried to send him away, he snapped that he would not leave a child alone to his sickbed. When he saw Gon awake again, the music in his heart soared.

Melody waited until the others had left. The night was growing late, and she was hungry. They had worked through dinner. She went to the hotel room’s telephone and ordered dinner for two.

Kurapika sent her a look from his position hunched over his desk, planning or brooding but more likely both. “I know what you’re doing, Melody. I’m not hungry.”

No, he was not hungry. Depression had that way with people, tricking their bodies into thinking they were not hungry or thirsty or tired until they finally collapsed. Kurapika’s hair was too long, falling over his face, but even his long bangs could not hide the dark circles under his eyes. His dress shirt was wrinkled, his tie long gone and the top buttons undone.

Still, for the first time in months, Melody felt hope for this young man. Because she finally heard Leorio’s song playing in Kurapika’s heart.

“You saw him,” Melody stated.

Kurapika stiffened, but to his credit, he did not try to argue. He respected her time and intelligence enough for that, at least. In an even tone, he confirmed, “I did.”

“How is he?” she asked. She kept her tone as light and neutral as his. Two could play at this game, and while Melody was not as practiced in it as Kurapika, she was still _very_ good.

“Fine,” Kurapika said shortly. “Busy. He is a medical student, after all.”

“Will he be on the Black Whale, as well?” Melody asked. “He was an excellent caregiver when Gon was in the hospital, I recall.”

Kurapika nodded. His heart’s song slipped down a few octaves. “Yes. He will be Dr. Cheadle’s direct assistant.”

“An excellent opportunity,” Melody said, her cheer evident. “He deserves such an honor.”

And there, _there_ \- a ghost of a smile, there and gone again like an apparition. It was small, unsteady, unpracticed, like the muscles were dancing in a step half-forgotten. It flickered like a candle’s flame trembling against a gust of wind. But it was there.

Melody had not seen Kurapika smile in months. Not since, she realized, the last time her young friend had crossed paths with Leorio.

 _Oh, darling,_ Melody thought, listening to the somber music of Kurapika’s heart. _If you want his help you only need to ask. If you miss him, you only need to tell him so. If you want to talk to him you only need to call. He will answer._

And then Melody realized that was probably exactly why Kurapika didn’t.

**2\. Mizaistom**

Mizaistom noticed it second.

That was to be expected. One did not become a Double-Star Crime Hunter, Zodiac member, lawyer and criminologist, and security company head without picking up a few tricks. The most helpful of which was a sharp set of eyes and a keen intuition.

Mizai tried to keep an open mind. Open minds meant fewer assumptions, which meant fewer surprises. And in his line of business, surprises meant the split-second of hesitation on the knife’s edge between life and death.

Still: the person Leorio recommended to replace Pariston the Rat was not someone Mizai would have pictured. Mizai liked Leorio. He respected the kid’s honest, straightforward nature; his openhearted desire to do good; hell, even his spunk and foul mouth and quick temper were all negative character traits he only brought out when someone he cared about was threatened. And if that was when Leorio made an ass of himself, well, Mizai could forgive him for that.

Kurapika was...none of those things.

He was cold where Leorio was warm. He was icily polite where Leorio was friendly in that rough-and-tumble way of his. Leorio wore suits to show that despite his youth, he was a professional, a healer, someone who could be trusted. Kurapika wore suits to show that he had earned his place in the hierarchy of the underworld, that he had killed before and would do so again.

Another similarity: Kurapika was quick to anger, but where Leorio’s anger was bluster and noise, Kurapika was frigid austerity and chains and glowing scarlet eyes. Mizai was a veteran hunter, yet something about Kurapika’s aura of wrath and mile-thick walls of ice chilled even him.

This world was not a kind place, but where Leorio had taken that cruelty and spat it back and decided to fix it, Kurapika had bowed to it and carved out his own place to snatch his own healing from the jaws of indifference.

Mizai was correct in one regard, at least: once Kurapika learned that the owner of a set of Kurta Clan eyes would be aboard the Black Whale, he thawed enough to acquiesce to joining them. He was a welcome addition to the team: sharp, brilliant, cunning. He played mind games on par with Netero, Pariston, or Ging. He was unafraid to say what he thought. His nen was some of the strongest Mizai had seen in his time as a hunter.

Try as he might, for the first month of their time working together, Mizai had been unable to speak with Kurapika about anything besides work. The younger man dodged his casual inquiries into his life with an ease and diplomacy that made it difficult for Mizai to probe further without growing pushy.

Leorio had warned Mizai that Kurapika was private. That was putting it lightly. Eventually, Mizai learned that their new Rat’s evasiveness was because there was nothing in Kurapika’s life outside of work.

So Mizai asked Leorio about it. Their new Boar looked uncomfortable at the question, concerned about sharing a story that wasn’t his to tell. Finally Leorio relented and told him that Kurapika was looking for the Kurta eyes to avenge his people and properly lay their ghosts to rest, and his powerful nen was the result of a series of contracts he had made with himself on how he would use his chains. Leorio refused to share more.

The nen conversation was when everything clicked. Mizai stood with Kurapika in the office where they set up their truth-detecting station, hands in their pockets and shooting the shit to figure out who may have gotten through the Hunter Exam’s defenses. Again, Mizai found himself both awed and alarmed at the brilliance, poise, and power of this kid.

It concerned Mizai. First, because he was pretty sure that Kurapika would do anything and everything necessary to get the last of the Kurta eyes, and that opened up a lot of doors he was more comfortable keeping closed. But secondly, Mizai was just _worried_ for Kurapika. Their new Rat held himself with poise beyond his years, but Mizai knew this kid wasn’t even twenty. He did not like the things someone would have to do and see to find themselves a mob boss with a handful of kills under their belt and a hair-trigger temper in their _teens._ Add to that the fact that so far he had seen Kurapika ingest nothing but coffee, energy drinks, and a couple granola bars…

“Am I included in your nen show-and-tell?” Kurapika asked, interrupting Mizai’s thoughts. Kurapika peered up with his dark, shadowed eyes, hands in his pockets, the picture of casual indifference, except Mizai knew how quickly that could turn.

He tried not to sigh, knowing this was the conversation he had been dreading. “No,” he started, because that seemed the easiest way to preemptively lower Kurapika’s hackles. “Leorio told me of your situation.”

Kurapika’s blond brows rose, almost disappearing behind the fringe of his bangs. The kid needed a haircut, too. He was too young to be acting like such a dad about this whole thing.

Mizai went on, “I won’t press you for details, and I won’t share what I know. But that just means I can’t share our other abilities, or how we came by what we know. And fair warning, that can make things tricky down the line.”

Kurapika thought on that for a moment. “I see. Thank you.”

And then, Kurapika actually surprised Mizai: he let out a soft sound, half through his nose and half through his mouth. His lips twitched up into a - a _smile?_

“What?” Mizai asked. He immediately felt silly, because he was an experienced crime hunter and the best question he could form at that moment was what. But also - _what?_

Mizai had known Kurapika for nearly two months now. In that time, Kurapika had almost taken his head off, started a small civil war among the Zodiacs, spearheaded a spy hunt, and outsmarted at least two different criminal syndicates trying to infiltrate the Hunters. But never, not once, had he seen Kurapika _smile._

And at the mention of his tragic, traumatic history, no less. He had immediately lashed out at Mizai the _second_ he brought up the Scarlet Eyes. Now Mizai revealed that he knew about his quest for revenge and his nen, and he smiled. The expression took years off of Kurapika’s face, softening the lines around his mouth and eyes (lines he was far too young to have), and making him look his age for the first time in their acquaintance.

“I was thinking,” Kurapika mused, and his tone was something Mizai had never heard before, either. It was warmer, more familiar, a mix of fondness and nostalgia. An emotion he was far too young to clearly feel so deeply. Why would he be so nostalgic over - _oh._

“Things wouldn’t go so smoothly if I was here by myself. Everything is so much better with Leorio as a go-between,” Kurapika said. He was still smiling, bittersweet and sad and Mizai knew he was accidentally looking in on something personal and emotional that regular folks weren’t meant to see. It seemed there was a gap in Kurapika’s thick emotional fortress, and it was sized just so a six-four med student with a penchant for ties and suits could strut right through it. And Mizai was pretty sure Leorio had no idea.

Mizai was also pretty sure Kurapika could have ended that sentence with _everything is so much better with Leorio_ and sent the same message.

That explained why the two, who Leorio had described as friends and allies during the Hunter Exam, had barely spoken in the rush of planning things. They were friends, allies, but there was an undercurrent of something stronger and deeper there. Something that willed Leorio to toss Kurapika’s name into the hat, something that changed Kurapika’s mind when his first answer to this expedition was a flat-out no.

There was something that kept the doctor-to-be and the teen mob boss coming back to each other. Mizai was looking forward to them figuring out what.

**3\. Hanzo**

Just because they were all getting ready for what was possibly, probably a one-way trip to hell did not mean that the rest of their work vanished.

A fact that Hanzo was unpleasantly reminded of when he and Kurapika needed to step out to “take a call,” which was business speak for “kick the asses of the rival mafia tailing Miss Neon.”

In normal circumstances, Hanzo would have thought that two against ten would have been gratuitously unfair odds. As it was, two Hunters against ten regular mafia members just felt unfair on behalf of the mafiosos.

At least Hanzo was with Kurapika, which meant that they weren’t even pausing their conversation as they fought.

“...There will be several bodyguard postings soon,” Kurapika was explaining, ducking and weaving and crunching bones and noses in his wake. His tone did not shift from its casual, conversational tone. “We should all endeavor to apply to one bodyguard slot each. This will ensure we reach maximum coverage and communication.”

“Kurapika, can we do this later?” Hanzo asked. He was hardly out of breath, but he wanted to _focus._ He ducked, knocked the legs out from under one mafioso and elbowed the sternum of a second. The move was smooth, effortless, graceful, and he rather wished he had a more appreciative audience for it. So rarely was a ninja able to fight with someone who would applaud their skill.

Kurapika, it seemed, refused to be that adoring audience. “We’re not busy,” he said, much to the anger or surprise of the few remaining mafiosos. Hanzo saw Kurapika’s eyes glitter red in his ire at this interruption to their plans.

“You bastard -” a mafioso snarled, but before he could say more, Hanzo knocked him unconscious with a chop to the neck. The last attacker felled, Kurapika sent Hanzo a short nod.

“Thank you, Hanzo,” he said. “As I was saying -”

A buzzing sound cut over his words. Kurapika sighed, holding up a finger as he expressionlessly said, “My apologies. Please give me a moment.”

Like they hadn’t known each other for nearly two years. Hanzo bit back a laugh when Kurapika dug his phone out of his pocket. Interestingly, Kurapika’s eyes flashed bright red for a moment when he saw the caller ID. Hanzo assumed the caller was some other mafia member calling to make a big stink about something. Instead, Hanzo was deeply surprised when Kurapika greeted remarkably evenly for someone with a nosebleed, “Leorio. Is this important?”

Hanzo lifted an eyebrow. He remembered Kurapika’s trio of friends from the Hunter Exam: the stubborn spitfire, the accomplished assassin, the doctor-to-be. Hanzo had been pleasantly surprised when all three of them passed the exam, and even more so when the doctor almost ended up chairman of the Association. Bisky, Melody, and him had cheerfully discussed the current standings of each election round and joyously watched the video of Leorio punching Ging several times over. But not once did Kurapika join in.

It was sad, Hanzo thought, assuming that there must have been some kind of falling out there. Or they had all simply drifted apart following the exam. It happened often enough to regular kids who didn’t decide to be Hunters; why should this group be any different?

Still. It felt a little nostalgic, seeing so many people from the exam all together again. Even if they each had their own goals and agendas. Even if they were so estranged they no longer seemed to know how to speak to each other.

Leorio’s voice was loud and tinny through the line. _“I wouldn’t call at balls-a.m. if it wasn’t, Kurapika. Thanks for picking up.”_

“Very well,” Kurapika sighed. “I’m here with Hanzo. We are finishing a...meeting.”

“Hi, Leorio!” Hanzo called. Kurapika sent him a standard Disapproving Look for being loud.

 _“‘A meeting’ as in something legit, or ‘a meeting’ as in dumping a body?”_ Leorio snarked through the line. His voice sounded rough with exhaustion. _“And hey, Hanzo. Break any kids’ arms lately?”_

“That was once!” Hanzo shouted. “And it was the exam -”

This time Kurapika turned his red-eyed glare on _Hanzo,_ and the ninja at last decided to shut up. Kurapika nodded once, wordlessly saying, _good decision._ Man, Hanzo had forgotten how _scary_ Kurapika could be when he wanted.

“In any case,” Kurapika said coolly. “I am very busy with Black Whale preparations, so -”

 _“Yeah, yeah, Kurapika, you’re a very busy man, I know,”_ Leorio interrupted. _“Can’t call, text, email, sleep, eat, or shit, I get it. Same here. This is about the Black Whale anyway, so stop interrupting me. I need to ask you about your immunization history.”_

Kurapika frowned. “Immunization history?”

 _“Yeah, immunization. Like, shots? Everyone is going to need a bunch of new shots and boosters and I’m plotting out who needs what. Your medical history is super blank, which is making my job difficult. Figured I’d go to the source. What shots have you had?”_ Leorio asked. Hanzo pictured Leorio hunched over a desk or computer spreadsheet, phone on speaker as he typed away.

“I’ve never had shots,” Kurapika answered. “I grew up in an isolated community, remember?”

There was a pause. Hanzo counted it in breaths. _One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven - ___

 _“WHAT DO YOU MEAN, YOU’VE NEVER HAD SHOTS?”_ Leorio bellowed across the airwaves. Hanzo jumped and almost wondered if he could distantly hear the actual Leorio shouting from across the city.

Kurapika, to his eternal credit, did not jump. He kept up that neutral poker face with the skill and experience of a bodyguard who had seen far too much bullshit in his short career. He simply pulled the phone away from his ear, salvaging his hearing, and waited for Leorio to tire himself out.

Hanzo watched, amazed, his eyes going wider and wider as Leorio’s tirade went on. Not at Leorio’s carrying on, which sounded now more like a general lecture about the importance of vaccines than anything targeted at his actual audience, but at Kurapika. Who _never_ allowed anyone to ramble this long on a call, who _never_ allowed anyone to raise their voice at him, who _never_ allowed someone to speak to him like this, loud and swearing and familiar and _concerned._ Every time someone in their group tried to show care for Kurapika’s health and well-being (pointed comments from Bisky, extra sandwiches from Basho, gentle reminders from Melody), Kurapika would politely but clearly rebuff them.

Leorio had been shouting about the importance of vaccines and health and not relying solely on herd immunity for nearly three minutes now, showing little to no signs of stopping, and Kurapika was silent.

 _“I’m going to need to file extra paperwork,”_ Leorio was bemoaning. _“You’re going to need the same shots babies get. At least that will free up some boosters, and - K’pika, how do you feel about needles? Because you’re going to get an alarming number of shots. We’ll need to spread them out over a few weeks, so you’ll need to come in tomorrow to get started. Don’t try and get out of this, I know you’re a big bad crime boss now but I_ will _hunt you down, so help me -”_

It happened so quickly Hanzo would have missed it if he had been looking elsewhere: at Leorio’s threat - a truly adorable thing to say to a Nostrade bodyguard and enforcer - Kurapika smiled. It was just a twitch of his lips and a flash of teeth, like the beginnings of a laugh. Then it was gone. The way Kurapika was clearly biting the inside of his cheek to keep that smile at bay hinted that another was not far from the surface.

“Leorio,” Kurapika interrupted, and the smile may have been gone from his face but not his voice. “I understand. I will be in the Association Headquarters tomorrow afternoon beginning at two o’clock. Will that work for an appointment to begin this regimen?”

 _“Two o’clock…”_ Leorio muttered across the airwaves. _“I’m in meetings all day tomorrow, but I can get someone else to do that. Go to room 878 tomorrow, someone will see you.”_

“I see,” Kurapika said. There was a strangely hollow tone to his voice. “You must be busy with preparations.”

Hanzo blinked. Was Kurapika _disappointed_ that he wouldn’t see Leorio? He never would have thought it, but he could not deny the evidence of his own eyes and ears.

 _“Like you wouldn’t believe,”_ Leorio was complaining. _“Anyway, I’m bushed, and I’ve got an early morning tomorrow, so I’m off to bed.”_

“Of course,” Kurapika murmured. “Goodnight.”

 _“And you get some sleep too, you hear? I see you chugging those energy drinks so I know you’re not sleeping. I - we need you well-rested for the Black Whale. Can’t have you dead on your feet before we even get started,”_ Leorio was saying. _“Anyway. Night, K’pika!”_

The beeping of the call disconnecting hung in the air between Hanzo and Kurapika. Hanzo said nothing as he watched Kurapika stare down at the blinking white screen. His hair swung forward, obscuring his face from Hanzo’s view. After several seconds, Hanzo looked away, at last gathering that he was looking at something deeply private that he was not supposed to see.

At last, Kurapika pocketed his phone. In a toneless voice, he instructed, “Help me hide these bodies.”

**4\. Pyon**

Confession: Pyon loved Leorio.

He wasn’t her type, of course. It wasn’t a romantic love (obviously, they just met) or a sexual attraction. But she thought he was adorable, sweet and scruffy. She was the rabbit: she had a soft spot for protectors, and Leorio embodied that title. She had adored that med student since he marched into the exam hall and punched Ging in the face (she may have rewatched the footage on loop at least eighty times with Machi that night, the two cackling into their wine while Gel looked on with her own snakeline smirk).

Then Leorio replaced Ging as their Boar, and his presence was a breath of fresh air. He was polite and funny and genuine and stubborn and outspoken. Then, Pariston left, and Pyon got a text from Ginta letting her know that Leorio had suggested a replacement.

Frankly, Leorio could have suggested a moldy, waterlogged hiking boot as Pariston’s replacement, and Pyon would have been _thrilled._

It took three meetings with their new Rat and Boar for Pyon to figure out that while she loved Leorio, Kurapika _loved_ Leorio.

She figured this out in the most innocent, innocuous way. It was the work of mere moments, but to Pyon, the moment stretched forever.

The Zodiacs were gathered to discuss the roles they would be taking for the Dark Continent expedition. Everyone was going around, sharing which team they would work on in the Black Whale. Leorio stood up, six feet and four inches of navy suit, gangly limbs, and good-natured smile, and he rubbed at the back of his neck.

“I’ll be short, since you all know me,” Leorio said, to a smattering of chuckles. “I’m just a medical student, so I’ll be Cheadle’s direct assistant in the medical department on the Whale. I’ll handle logistics, supplies, and personnel, and I hope I’ll also have the opportunity to practice medicine while aboard. Please, let me know if there is something I can do to help any of you.” He ended this short speech with a bow.

The chuckles grew into laughs. Pyon giggled to herself as well, her gaze flickering over the table. Cheadle smiled fondly at her newest protégé, and even Mizai gave a long, low chuckle that sounded like a lowing moo. Between the more senior Zodiac members sat their newest Rat, Kurapika, who so far had been stoic and laser-focused in every meeting.

He was still looking at the meeting agenda on the desk, pen held aloft in his fingers, but for a few moments, Pyon watched Kurapika smile. It was like lightning, gone before she had even realized what it was and just as blinding, but it made him look years younger. His eyes softened before he forcibly schooled his features back into placidity. He glanced around the table, as if checking to make sure no one saw his slip. As if he’d been caught doing something he wasn’t allowed to do. He met Pyon’s gaze, and she watched him freeze, holding her gaze. For someone who possessed such a commanding, almost predatory presence, he looked awfully like prey in that moment. Like a rat caught in a trap.

The poor thing looked almost _guilty._

Pyon grinned at him and winked, sending a completely unsubtle message of _I’ll keep your secret, Rat, don’t you worry._ Kurapika sent her a short nod completely at odds with the soft blush to his cheeks. Adorable.

Pyon smirked to herself, and she started tallying up odds in the margins of her notes. She had a betting pool to start.

**5\. Oito**

Oito’s hands were shaking.

Her entire body was, in fact - fingers, hands, knees, rattling like tree branches in a storm. Her stomach was in knots, her heart pounding an unsteady _thump-thumpthumpthump-thumpthump-thump_ in her chest that left her feeling dizzy. Clammy sweat was pouring down her forehead, pooling under her arms and making her palms slippery. Her temples ached with a migraine. When she reached into Woble’s crib, her baby girl immediately got fussy, kicking her little legs and weeping.

 _What kind of woman are you?_ Oito flagellated herself. _What kind of mother, what kind of fool? How could you bring her into this den of snakes?_

“Oh, shh, darling girl,” Oito tried to soothe her daughter, but it was useless. Woble’s cries rose to sharp, piercing wails that rattled her eardrums. She met the gaze of her lead guard. His eyes were heavily shadowed and bloodshot.

“I’m so sorry, Kurapika,” Oito said. Embarrassingly, she felt tears stinging at the corners of her eyes. “She’s usually not a fussy baby. She’s not usually like this. _I’m_ not usually like this.”

Oito adjusted Woble in her arms to swipe at her eyes. She lowered her head in shame. She was a Queen of Kakin, a grown woman. But she and her daughter nearly died so many times in the past twelve hours, and her nerves were _shot._ How were they to survive two _weeks_ of this?

And Kurapika - there was something he was not telling her. Something about his incredible nen sharing ability that he was not sharing. Yet even with his brilliant strategy and ability to think on his feet, he was so young. Could she truly entrust her daughter’s safety to him?

But could she trust anyone else?

Kurapika sighed. “I’m sorry. I have been dilatory in my duties. I would like to contact a doctor to ensure you and the prince are coping following last night’s events.”

“A doctor?” Oito repeated.

Kurapika nodded. “I have a - there is a medic on this ship,” he rephrased. “He is excellent. I would like to bring you to him.”

“And how am I to trust that this _medic_ will not attempt to kill me or my daughter?” Oito demanded coldly. “We started this journey with a full staff not twelve hours ago. Now we are down to _two guards_ and nearly _two dozen_ people are dead.” She drew herself up to her full height, even as her head spun with anxious lightheadedness. Her hands felt numb and tingly. “How am I to trust this person?”

Kurapika was silent for a moment. When he spoke, his serious, businesslike cadence had taken on a human quality she had not yet heard from him in their acquaintance. “Because I trust him.”

Kurapika, who drew his gun and his chains with practiced, lightning-quick reflexes; who snapped first and asked questions later; who never saw a problem without finding half a dozen more to go with it - Oito was honestly surprised to learn he trusted _anyone,_ let alone someone on this ship.

But that convinced her, at least. That, and the way Woble refused the bottle Shimano passed her. Oito stood up, tall and regal even with her knees knocking.

“Very well. Take me to this medic.”

Kurapika nodded. He motioned for Bill to follow them and keep watch as he made a few calls. Dimly, Oito heard Kurapika murmuring in a low voice through the phone. He joined them a few minutes later, adjusting his sleeve cuffs and smoothing his dress shirt. As they made their way down the hallway, Kurapika drew a silk tie from his pocket and tied it with lithe fingers.

This medic was located one tier below - the calls must have been to allow passage, Oito realized. It seemed her guard was even more powerful and well-connected than even she anticipated. He led the way, Bill at her back with a reassuring and gentle hand between the wings of her shoulder blades. The crush of noise and people made her head spin, her heart rate kicking up again. The rapid tempo beat out _danger, danger, danger everywhere_ with each step she took.

Kurapika stopped them outside a plain door. “I secured a private room for you,” he explained. “Bill? Will you keep watch?”

Bill nodded and took up his position at the side of the hallway. Kurapika tapped the door with his knuckles. He was already opening the door when a voice from inside called, “come in!”

The room Kurapika showed her into was small but comfortable. It featured an exam table and all the necessary accoutrements one might need to conduct a medical exam. A small office to their right was cracked open, adding more soft lighting to the room. The man who stood at the edge of the table was younger than she expected, towering above her in a way that made her nearly recoil. But he smiled down at her, and it was the first genuine expression of kindness she had seen in _so long_ that she almost started weeping right there.

“Good morning,” he greeted. “My name is Leorio. Kurapika has told me that you could use a quick check-up. Is that alright, your majesty?”

“Your _highness,”_ Kurapika hissed behind Oito. To her very great surprise, Leorio rolled his eyes to the ceiling.

“Can’t boss me around here, Kurapika, this is my domain,” the medic said. He adjusted his glasses and sent Oito a conspiratorial grin. It put her at ease, and she felt a smile split over her lips in reflex.

“Oito, please,” she said. “I don’t much want to be a queen this morning.”

Leorio’s dark eyes went wide. It was a compassionate gesture, one of openhearted intent and not pity. “I’m sorry to hear that,” he said. He indicated to her to sit on the exam table. “Tell me more about that?”

Oito nodded and passed off the still-fussy baby to Kurapika. Woble quieted only briefly before she started whining again.

“I’m sorry in advance,” Oito said to Leorio, but he was already shaking his head.

“Please, don’t. I grew up with lots of siblings, I know the struggle. And I wouldn’t be a good doctor if I couldn’t concentrate through some noise, would I?” He gave a small, self-deprecating chuckle. Oito smiled, feeling more at ease. He lifted his stethoscope. “Take a deep breath, and tell me what’s happened.”

She did. Leorio pressed the cool metal of the stethoscope to her chest. He made a face, furrowing his brow as her story went on, and then moved the paddle to her back. A few moments later he pulled away, tugging off the earpieces and glaring at Kurapika.

“How the hell did it get this bad this fast? We haven’t even been at sea for a full day,” he chastised Kurapika. He looked at Oito. “I’m so sorry for him. He has a terrible presence.”

Oito braced herself for the explosion. All she had seen thus far was Kurapika’s sharp temper and detached, automatic fighting responses. To her surprise, the most explosive thing Kurapika did was roll his eyes. “We both know I can’t tell you that, Leorio. And don’t swear in front of the prince.”

“Yes, yes, you’re a big bad serious bodyguard now,” Leorio said, flapping his hand dismissively. He instructed Oito to keep still as he attached a cuff to take her blood pressure. He winked down at her. “Don’t let him fool you,” he added in a stage-whisper. “He’s a big softie. Trailed after a kid half our age in the Hunter Exam to make sure he was alright.”

“Better than you,” Kurapika said primly. He adjusted Woble in his arms, adding with utmost dignity, _“You_ followed that child because it was that or get lost in the woods. I can think of at least five separate times you would have failed the exam without us. And you still haven’t apologized for swearing.”

“See?” Leorio asked Oito, his eyes big and dark. “All talk. And an infant needs constant stimulation and communication to pick up a broad vocabulary.”

Kurapika did not reply, rolling his eyes again. To Oito, he said, “I apologize for Leorio’s behavior, your highness. I had thought Leorio would have received training in professionalism in the past few years, but I was sadly mistaken.”

Oito bit back a slightly hysterical giggle. This was a side of her bodyguard that she had not yet seen - one that was lighter, a touch more cheerful. He was more human and approachable. It was clear Kurapika shared a _history_ with this medic. “It’s alright. I find his frankness refreshing.”

“Thank you, Oito,” Leorio said graciously. His smile fell away. “But regarding my frankness - I have some concerns over the symptoms I’m seeing today. Your elevated, irregular heart rate, your high blood pressure, the tension migraine, and excessive sweating are all indicative of a prolonged anxiety attack. I’m going to help calm you down now, and we can go over some coping skills to keep this from happening again. I know I can’t erase your anxieties completely, but hopefully these will help you feel more in control.”

Oito almost wanted to cry again from Leorio’s kind words. He did not judge her for being a mess or think she was a bad mother. He only coached her through her breathing and gave her a small sedative, which she felt starting to take effect immediately. Then he talked her through some coping skills and grounding and breathing exercises to help her keep her head when the next threat came.

“I really wish it was if, and not when,” Leorio was saying to Oito. His hands were warm through his gloves as he held her wrist, feeling her pulse slow into a calmer rhythm. “But I won’t insult your intelligence by offering empty platitudes. I do know that whatever happens, Kurapika will keep you and your daughter safe.”

Oito glanced over Leorio’s shoulder, where Kurapika was leaning against the wall with the squirming Woble in his arms. Kurapika ducked his head before she could glimpse his reaction to that remark, but she was sure she was not imagining the pink flush creeping over his cheeks.

“You really trust him,” Oito observed. She smiled up at Leorio. “He trusts you, too.”

“Can’t get through the Hunter Exam together and not, I would think,” Leorio said cheerfully. Oito smiled - his presence was soothing after this night from hell. For the first time since she boarded this ship, she felt like she could breathe in deeply.

“Thank you, Leorio,” Oito said. “You have been so kind. I feel so much better.”

“Of course,” Leorio said. He went a bit red and he rubbed at the back of his neck bashfully. “It’s what I’m here for. May I check out the princess?”

“You may,” Oito said, nodding. Leorio helped her off of the exam table and moved to take the infant from Kurapika.

“The correct term is prince,” Kurapika informed Leorio snidely. Leorio only shook his head.

“Wrong again, K’pika,” he said. Swiftly and easily, he lifted Woble into his arms. _“All_ baby girls are princesses. Isn’t that right, sweet girl?” He cooed down at Woble. “You know you’re a sweet girl, aren’t you? Look at that smile!”

And wonder of wonders, Oito stared as her daughter finally started to calm in this doctor’s arms. As she watched, the fussing started to turn to baby-babble and giggles as Leorio lifted her up high. This man was _incredible_ \- his casual, cheerful banter with Kurapika, his skill in putting her at ease, and his magical ability to soothe her daughter? Oito turned to Kurapika to say something, to ask where he _found_ this angel, but she stopped before she could open her mouth.

Because even if she spoke, she was not sure if her head bodyguard would hear her. Kurapika was watching Leorio with a faraway expression that said more than any words might express. Oito had learned to read people in her life, first as a poor girl in the slums and then as a politician and queen. But Kurapika, her brilliant, subtle bodyguard, was not hiding a damn thing on his face.

He looked at this medic with a soft fondness in his eyes that spoke _volumes_ of shared history, laughter, of fights and meals and experiences. There was a yearning there so sharp and clear it made Oito feel like she was intruding just by looking at him. It left her with a sympathetic ache in her own chest, a dim mirror of Kurapika’s.

And then Kurapika smiled, a slow unfurling of his lips like the sun creeping above the horizon. So slow you missed it coming on, but unmistakable and incredibly beautiful once it was there. It was the first time Oito had seen him smile beyond a few soft words to Woble. But this smile was sweet and pure and true and it came from the depths of a damaged, longing, breaking heart.

 _Breaking_ in the verb tense, as if his heart was forever crumbling and shattering and splintering, tearing itself apart when he was near Leorio and imploding when he wasn’t. Oito looked at her young bodyguard and knew that she had never loved someone like Kurapika loved this medic. She had never pined for anyone the way her bodyguard did for Leorio.

“She’s all set!” Leorio’s cheerful (too buoyant, Oito realized, as if he was putting up a face as much as Kurapika was) voice cut through her thoughts. He handed Oito a freshly-swaddled Woble. “There’s nothing physically wrong with her, so I think she could just sense that everyone else around her was stressed and tense, and that scared her. Babies are so smart. She just wanted to know her mama was okay.”

Oito beamed up at him as she accepted Woble. There was nothing quite like holding her little girl in her arms, seeing her button nose and hearing her giggles and smelling her powdery baby-smell. She leaned in to press her lips to Woble’s velvet-smooth skin, and Woble gave a bright, giggly screech.

“Thank you,” Oito said. “Truly, you’ve been incredibly kind.” An idea struck her, and Oito turned to her bodyguard. “Oh, by the way, Kurapika, are you feeling better?”

Kurapika blinked. “I… yes, I am, thank you.”

“‘Feeling better?’” Leorio quoted, furrowing his brow. “What happened?”

“I’m not sure,” Oito confessed. “Things got very intense last night, as you know, and Kurapika…” For a moment, she saw a flash of panic in Kurapika’s eyes, and she realized that whatever was up with his nen-dolphin, Leorio did not know about it and Kurapika wanted to keep it that way. Which was his business, and it was not Oito’s place or intention to push. She quickly rephrased. “...collapsed. It was the strangest thing.”

“You _collapsed?”_ Leorio demanded Kurapika. Oito held back a snicker as Kurapika glared up at the medic, drawing himself up to his full height which was, admittedly, only as high as Leorio’s shoulder. The glower on his face could still stop traffic, though, Oito decided. Not that Leorio seemed affected by it in the least.

“I had...low blood sugar. It is none of your concern. As I said, I am well now, thank you,” Kurapika repeated.

“I know,” Oito said. “Still, I would feel so much better if I knew that you had been checked out and had a clean bill of health. And we’re already here! Bill can escort me back to our rooms. I’ll be safe enough in the middle of the day.” Kurapika looked hesitant for another moment, and she reached forward, her fingers brushing his wrist. “Please, Kurapika. I care about you, but I also need you to be at your best. If you won’t allow Leorio to check on you when I ask, then you may take it as an order.”

Kurapika looked like he wanted to protest, at least as far as seeing her off to their rooms, but eventually he nodded, acquiescing. “Of course, your highness. I will see you upstairs shortly.”

“Of course,” Oito said magnanimously. “Please, take your time.”

She smiled down at her baby as she left. Kurapika had already saved her own life and her daughter’s multiple times, and she had no doubt he would continue to.

He deserved a little happiness in return, Oito mused, allowing Bill to place his hand on her lower back as they directed their steps back to their deck.

**+1. Cheadle ******

********

It was hardly a secret that Cheadle adored Leorio.

********

He was an excellent healer, she had observed almost immediately. Calm, brilliant, kind, with a stellar bedside manner that belied his relative inexperience. His nen was going to save thousands of lives, millions if he shared his techniques like Cheadle was sure he would (because if he could do something that would save more people, Leorio would do it. She knew this already). He cared for Gon Freeccs like a big brother-slash-father, and Cheadle would be lying if she said she didn’t rewatch the footage of him punching Ging in the face a time or two (or ten).

********

He was going to be an incredible hunter, Cheadle knew. An even more incredible doctor. And if he so chose, a paradigm-shifting Hunter Association Chairman.

********

She meant it when she said she would be his direct assistant if he were elected. So it was a no-brainer to personally offer Leorio an opportunity to learn and serve as her second-in-command and direct assistant on the Black Whale. She had been thoroughly impressed by his dedication, organization, thoroughness, and attention to detail in the months leading up to the expedition. Dammit, Cheadle would be halfway to adopting Leorio _herself_ were he not already an adult (by technicality, at least. In Cheadle’s experienced eyes, Leorio was still very much a young man and a student).

********

She still needed to be around to observe Leorio when he worked, which was why she was catching up on paperwork in this medical room’s back office while he attended to Queen Oito. Cheadle had lifted her eyebrows at Kurapika’s request. She had not thought their newest Rat and Boar had that kind of relationship, judging by the way they interacted (which is to say, they rarely did). But Kurapika said that a medic needed to check in on the queen and he insisted none but Leorio would do. So, here they were.

********

Cheadle had smirked into her paperwork as she listened to the conversation happening just outside the door. Leorio was a professional as he examined Oito and her infant daughter, putting them both at ease with his calming presence and his playful banter with Kurapika. The two had rarely interacted with such familiarity even among the Zodiacs, their colleagues. It took Cheadle very much by surprise to learn that the two had become friends during the Hunter Exam. She knew that they must have known each other, having passed in the same round, but this was the first time she realized their relationship even approached something like friendship.

********

Queen Oito exited, and Cheadle heard Leorio start, “You _collapsed,_ Kurapika?”

********

A beat. “Again, it was -”

********

“Low blood sugar,” Leorio repeated. He sighed. “Come on, I’ll check you out, make sure you’re not about to die on me.”

********

Kurapika scoffed but said nothing more. Cheadle signed off on a few medical records, reviewed some records regarding the administering stronger medications. After a few minutes, she heard Leorio say, “Alright, everything seems mostly normal. Whatever led to you passing out - and judging from your eating habits, I am _slightly_ more inclined to believe that it _was_ low blood sugar - seems to have passed.” There was a skeptical note to his tone that Cheadle didn’t generally recommend with patients, but she decided to give Leorio a pass on this. These Hunters had known each other for nearly two years now; it was clear that whatever their history, they were friendly enough, if not quite _friends._

********

If they ever had been friends. If they still were friends. Cheadle saw the way that Leorio studied Kurapika across the Zodiac conference table, the way Kurapika looked back when he knew Leorio would not notice. There was History there, capital letter and all.

********

“Is there...anything else bothering you?” Leorio asked. “I know we haven’t really...talked...since Yorknew.”

********

A pause. “I do not think now is an appropriate time to get into anything,” Kurapika replied stiffly. “And the only thing bothering me is my head.”

********

“I see. Well, at least the last part I can help with,” Leorio said. “Just - hey, quit that, just hold still. I’m going to heal your migraine, calm down. You’re so dramatic.”

********

His nen? Cheadle wanted to see this. She stood up from her desk, wincing at the way her back and knees cracked from sitting for so long. She was not _nearly_ old enough for these aches and pains. But she supposed she was stressed and tired enough for it.

********

Damn Pariston. She wasn’t sure how yet, but Cheadle knew this was somehow all his fault.

********

She leaned against the threshold, watching her protégé work. Leorio and Kurapika cut an interesting figure, sitting there: the medic in his white scrubs, tenderly reaching his hands towards the black-suited, elegant mafioso. Leorio pressed the pointer and middle fingers of each hand to Kurapika’s temples, and his hands started to glow a sea-foam green. It was a calming, comforting color, illuminating the two young men in a halo of soft light.

********

Leorio was focused on his task, expression distant and steadfast as he used his nen to ease Kurapika’s migraine. Meanwhile, Kurapika was watching Leorio with an unreadable expression on his face. His gray eyes glittered sage green in the healing light of Leorio’s nen.

********

The air between them was intense, fraught with a tension that Cheadle could not begin to fathom. It was not a bad tension, she thought. They were not about to brawl in the middle of this exam room. It was just - the tension of _novels_ of things left unsaid, sitting and piling up around them. Turning to mountains of unspoken words that a misplaced step or deed would turn into an avalanche.

********

_Ah,_ Cheadle realized at last. _It really is like that with them._ Pyon’s betting pool seemed more appropriate now.

********

“I think that’s it,” Leorio said finally. He dropped his hands but only leaned back a scant few inches. His rolling chair was still right next to Kurapika, their knees almost brushing. “How does that feel?”

********

“It’s - better,” Kurapika said. His voice sounded rough as it caught over something in his throat. He coughed to clear it. “Your nen.”

********

Leorio laughed. It sounded a little forced and a little breathless. “Yeah, it took a long time to get it to this point. It’s going to have so many applications, I can’t wait to perfect it - right now it’s best for palpating and feeling for things like tumors or blood clots, but in time I hope to be able to break those things up. Maybe do surgical repairs without breaking the skin, maybe even heal the brain after strokes or the spine after severe injuries. There are a lot of specialists who could revolutionize their fields with this kind of ability.”

********

“You want to share your signature nen move?” Kurapika asked.

********

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I?” Leorio asked, nonplussed. “I can save people with this, but with more doctors learning this skill...medicine could be _revolutionized._ More doctors to use it means more people saved. And nen is free, it doesn’t require any materials or anything. Just training. The price of medical care could drop drastically.”

********

Another pause as Kurapika stared at Leorio like he had never seen him before. Like he was a wonder, a mystery, an enigma to unravel. Like he was fascinated and curious and confused and amazed.

********

But instead Kurapika said, “It’s the same color as mine.”

********

Cheadle tried not to inhale sharply at that revelation. Leorio tilted his head, interested and surprised, but not feeling the sudden shock of sympathy and rage that suddenly roared in Cheadle’s chest. He didn’t _know._

********

It wasn’t a topic often discussed among their profession, but the color of nen often reflected the personality or background of its user. Red for cruelty or wrath. Dark purple for control or manipulation. Yellow for bright, burning, stubborn natures. Blue for shyness and cunning. The light green that Cheadle and Leorio shared was for soft, compassionate souls, gentle and accommodating and good and true.

********

And to learn Kurapika, cunning and suspicious and distant and cold, chains on his hands and chains in his heart, had green-colored nen? The same color as healers and protectors? The knowledge broke Cheadle’s heart.

********

What had _happened_ to this young man? What had put him on this path? Who had hurt him so? Cheadle would find them and steal their teeth.

********

“Oh, neat,” Leorio said, completely clueless. “Can I see?”

********

And Kurapika held up his right hand, chains manifesting on his fingers. Like a prehensile tail, a tiny dagger illuminated in a green glow that matched the aura surrounding Leorio’s hands floated into the space between the two.

********

A dagger mirrored by healing hands, all lit in the same shade of gentle mint green. It was damn near poetic. Cheadle wanted to weep.

********

“Now, as for your treatment,” Leorio said. He studied Kurapika with a serious gaze. “Human contact is, as you know, important for reducing stress and improving a broad range of symptoms. Which is why your medicine today is a hug.”

********

Kurapika blinked. “A...hug?”

********

Cheadle wanted to slap her hand to her forehead. _Good grief, these two might be hopeless._

********

Leorio nodded. “A hug.”

********

Cheadle expected Kurapika to do many things in that moment - to roundly refuse, to leave, to retort with something cold and cutting. Anything except to suddenly laugh, surprised and loud. The sound was short-lived, but it utterly _transformed_ Kurapika’s face. He looked youthful and delighted and happy and surprised. He slapped a hand to his mouth as if to stifle the sound, but still, his shoulders trembled.

********

Kurapika shook his head, still smiling. “You are ridiculous, Leorio.”

********

“Yeah,” Leorio agreed. “We both know that. But it’s been a long time.”

********

Kurapika sighed, sounding very put-upon as he rose to his feet. “Fine. Very well. For taking care of the queen and prince, I will allow one four to five second hug.”

********

“Forty-five seconds?” Leorio said, grinning cheekily. “That’s way more than I expected!”

********

“No, you idiot, I said -” Kurapika’s words trailed off when Leorio put his arms around the shorter man’s shoulders and yanked him in. Kurapika swore - well, he said something in a language that Cheadle did not know, but judging by the tone she assumed it was a curse word - as he nose was muffled in the white fabric of Leorio’s uniform. Kurapika stood stiffly for several seconds, shoulders rigid and locked, before he at last moved to put his hands on Leorio’s waist.

********

Cheadle watched as his hands, trembling slightly, closed into fists on the soft white material. If Leorio noticed he did not say so, instead choosing to run his hands over the plane of Kurapika’s back and through his hair. His fingers left glowing green trails in their wake.

********

“I know what you’re doing,” Kurapika muttered into Leorio’s chest. His voice sounded thicker than usual.

********

“Good, I’d be worried if you didn’t,” Leorio said. “I’m not trying to hide it. You’re like, _alarmingly_ tense. You need a new bed.”

********

“I need a new _job,”_ Kurapika mumbled.

********

Leorio hesitated. “I hope you can get one,” he said. “After your...thing is over.”

********

Kurapika waited a few moments to speak. It felt like an eternity as he decided how to respond. But all he said was, “Maybe.”

********

He drew back, subtly retreating into himself and pushing Leorio back. Cheadle could see and almost feel the walls of ice in which Kurapika encased himself freezing again as he stood upright and adjusted his tie. “Thank you for your assistance, Leorio. It is much appreciated.”

********

“You’re so formal,” Leorio said, rolling his eyes as if the air in the room was not so thick Cheadle feared she could not walk through it. “Just say thank you and bye.”

********

“Very well,” Kurapika said. He peered up at Leorio though his bangs. “Thank you, and bye.”

********

Leorio sent him a two-fingered salute. “Anytime. Don’t be a stranger.”

********

He stayed where he was, watching Kurapika’s suited back as he exited the room. Once he was gone, the door swinging shut behind him, Cheadle watched Leorio sigh. A deep inhale, a few moments as he held it, a long exhale. A longing stare at the door.

********

“You will be, though,” Leorio said softly. Then he smiled.

********

It was the first time Cheadle had really seen him _smile_ \- not a grin, not a beam, not a loud laugh. A smile. Sad and knowing and and resigned and longing and hurting and nostalgic and pining, all at once. A smile for the boys they were and the men they were becoming. A smile for a hurt heart that was bending and bending and that might one day break. A smile for the pain that was to come, a recognition that he would face it head-on and not turn from it, because the alternative was leaving Kurapika to face it alone.

********

A smile for a love that was stillborn, that was dead on arrival. A smile for a love that was not love, not yet. A smile for a love that could have been. For a love that could _be,_ because there was no poison so cruel or dangerous or painful in this world as hope. And Leorio would hope for this love, would save this smile just for a man with red eyes and chains on his hands and ice in his heart, until that man was ready to come home to him to thaw.

********

Cheadle wiped her eyes and returned to her paperwork.

********

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading!!!! please drop a kudos or comment/
> 
> a few notes:  
> \- you CANNOT tell me that there aren't a million memes of leorio socking ging bouncing around the net. also if ging was that universally hated, even among the zodiacs, they all definitely were popping the BIGGEST bottles and watching that video on repeat.  
> \- i almost did bisky instead of pyon, but i wanted to show some zodiacs goodness. also i'm gay and pyon is CUTE.  
> \- DOES ANYONE KNOW HOW TO DO HYPERLINKS WITHOUT SHOWING THE WHOLE LINK i will legit write you a fic if someone can share these arcane secrets with me
> 
> you're welcome to drop me a line on https://notantherwritingblog.tumblr.com/


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